It Runs In The Family
by Beezle'sgotthemusic
Summary: "It's your grandfather." And sure enough there was his namesake, standing in front of the very house James was inside, waving with his two elderly parents


**It Runs In The Family**

****By Beezle'sgotthemusic

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When he was younger, he didn't dare tell anyone, he had resented the fact that he hardly looked like his parents. His hair wasn't quite black (though he did not inherit the characteristic all over the place Potter head), his eyes were blue (his mother has brown, his father has green and he inherits...blue?) and he hadn't a clue where in the gene pool his nose came from (his nose was a bit snobbish looking to be honest.) It use to bother him to no end. Everyone would turn to Lil and say "She looks just like her mother!" And Lily would blush hiding behind their mum. Then they'd turn to Al, "Spitting image of your father!" They'd exclaim because out of all of James' siblings Albus by far looked the most eerily like his father. They they'd turn to him and..."Oh, Well..." because James didn't look like anybody. Between the ages of nine and thirteen this was a bad thing, James hated it. Between the ages fourteen to sixteen he was to busy pranking to care. Now at the age of twenty James Potter had no qualms with the fact he looked nothing like his namesake.

By the age of twenty James had come to see the delicious perks of looking nothing like his parents. Both his siblings had their own segments (unbeknown to them) in Witch Weekly once upon a time. And while Lily escaped this particular hazard Albus was often mistaken for his father. Al was constantly asked for Autographs pictures and accounts of his defeat of Voldemort. It didn't matter that their was a twenty-five year gap between Father and Son, Harry aged well enough and Albus' resemblance was so uncanny that this was a common occurrence. James gleefully pointed out that such bombardment would never happen to him.

James did get stopped on occasion and a person or two would squint at him before asking, "Are you a Potter?" For whatever reason such encounters tended to take place in coffee shoppes. But it was rare. When and if ever James got stopped on the street it was to ask "You play for Puddlemere, right?"

James Had joined the team a year before, he'd been only 19 at the time and was one of the youngest starters in seven years. Both his Mother and Father had been ecstatic (if James hadn't inherited their looks he certainly inherited their Quidditch skills) though his Uncle Ron had been slightly disappointed he hadn't gone for the Cannons. He had insisted they were almost out of their twenty year slump.

"Twenty years!" Ron had said. "No they've only been down for a few..."

"Ron, we're being generous," Hermione had said (she on the other hand had promptly congratulated him.)

"What, NO!"

"How old are you Dad? They've been bad since you've been alive," Hugo had muttered with a grin. The Weasley family (all except Hermione) Proceeded to argue Quidditch logistics and James knew it was time to go.

Now, twenty years old, James was headed to the after party of his life, Puddlemere was after all a contender for the world cup. The team would already be there and be plenty drunk. James had had to go to his Grandma Molly's birthday party and the after party had started four hours earlier.

The party was being held at the Team Manager's house, which was more of a manor than a house but Darci had insisted it be called a 'House'. The Manager, Darci, was odd like that sometimes but the team knew better than to argue with him.

James found that his theory of the team's intoxication level was fairly accurate and he soon joined them. Because Darci was more about the teams connections than actual team bonding time (that was left up to the captain) the party was full of people James had never seen in his life. Radio talk show host (they'd really taken off in the Wizarding world after the war), influential socialites, Gossip magazine editors, and most importantly Witch Weekly models. There were other people with more important careers there (though you wouldn't catch a single Auror at the party) but James really didn't care.

He speculated, as he began discussing his Wronski feint with a model named Katherine, that for being a 'witch' magazine it had a large number of male readers. He really did appreciate their taste in women, Katherine was particularly gorgeous.

Katherine was relaying a photo shoot that she'd been in last week when the music started. James vaguely wondered why Darci had waited so long as Katherine pulled him to the dance floor.

They were in Darci's Ballroom (James thought he might have had two ballrooms but the house was too damn big for him to remember.) James anxiously called Darci over and asked him, much to Katherine's annoyance. This, of course, lead to Darci exclaiming he'd forgotten to five a tour and 'James you must really come along'. Darci was a surprsingly articulate drunk.

A large group, James couldn't count because his head was pounding, followed after Darci who was explaining the History of the 'House' (it was several centuries old). It wasn't until they arrived at the kitchen that James even realized Katherine was gone. He shrugged, there were plenty of Katherines.

When they arrived in a nearly empty room except for the dozen upon dozens of pictures hanging on the wall James sat on one of the few chairs. Darci was talking about the previous owners,"...i really bought it straight from them..." To be honest James wasn't and hadn't heard a single word Darci had muttered throughout the entire tour. It was evident he'd had a little too much Odgen's. James put his head between his knees and groaned. Hearing a hearty chuckle James blearily looked up at Darci who was gazing at him with amusement. "Do you want us to wait?" he asked.

"Go on, I'll catch up," James mumbled with a wave of his hand.

"Oh by the way, there are two Ballrooms James."

"Splendid." He muttered putting his head between his knees again.

"That's James Sirius Potter, Harry Potter's son, Ironic isn't' it..." But James didn't' get to hear what was so ironic because Darci and the group had left the room.

The Silence was heaven and James breathed deeply. He looked up and jumped, there was someone in the room. "Merlin!"

"Sorry, I really didn't expect you'd be in here, You don't seem like the type who would care. But It's just interesting that's all and I can't let _you _of all people dictate where I go."

James rubbed his eyes and took her in. "Oh it's you."

"I see you're as polite as ever," she said turning form the picture she had been studying to face him a hand on her hip. She looked good, really good, better than Katherine even and that's saying something.

"You look nice."

"You look horrid."

James laughed, "You need to hurry up and get the camera man in here, or your headline will be lost. 'Hero's son: a bad example for younger fans.'"

"I'm not here for a story," she snapped.

"Wait your telling me the prophet wouldn't have you go to a party to exploit information?"

"No they would," she sighed looking at the pictures briefly and crossing her arms.

"Then why are you here?" James asked, standing up.

"Because I was invited!"

"Well I'm sorry if I don't exactly trust you." James said glancing at the pictures.

"I can understand why you don't even if you're completely unfounded."

"Completely un..." James began indignantly.

"Would you shut up! I don't want to get into this."

"It was two years ago."

"That does not mean a thing."

"It does..."

"Stop being such an arse and look at the damn pictures."

James did as he was told and had to do a double take. "Is that my Fa..." but surely not, the Dursleys, they had lived in Little Whinging.

"It's your grandfather."

And sure enough there was his namesake standing in front of the very house James was inside waving with his two elderly parents "This is the Potter mansion." James muttered.

Her brow was wrinkled. "I thought...I thought you knew that's why you...were in here," she said in confusion.

James shook his head staring at the picture. His Grandfather waved, something came back to him. "Darci said he bought it..."

"Directly from the Potters," she finished. "Yeah, not long before Halloween actually. James and Lily Potter sold it before going into hiding."

James nodded still staring at the picture in amazement, he felt sober. As his eyes raked over the photo he chuckled.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing it's just, James Potter, he really, really looks like Dad and Al. It's uncanny."

She laughed too, "Your family is odd like that aren't they. I mean your sister looks like your mum. Your brother, dad and grandfather are practically identical. And the same goes for you and your great-grandfather."

"What?" James looked at the picture. "He's an old man!"

"Not that one you wanker. Look at that one, he should be about your age there."

James gazed at the picture she was pointing to. It was aged, the corner disintegrating, and a funny yellow color but within the frame stood a beaming man in his early twenties. It was like looking in a mirror. There was his eyes, and his nose he had always wondered where that came from. James jaw it definitely came from this man. And there was his hair sitting happily atop his great-grandfather's head, that odd off-black color James had just chalked up to a combination of red and black. "I...I always thought...What's his name?"

Her eyes widened and she looked between the portrait and James for a moment. James was flushed, with excitement? He didn't know.

He realized that this would be a bit uncomfortable for her. How was she suppose to know how little he knew about the Potter side of his family? And to be the one to introduce him to it, it wasn't her job.

"Uh...Charles, his name was Charles," she said a bit roughly. "I'm, I'm going to... I have to go."

She started for the door.

"Wait!" James didn't know what he was doing.

She turned expectantly.

"I..." he couldn't bring himself to thank her so he said the only other thing that was nagging at the back of his mind instead. "Veelma. That's how you found me, wasn't it. This picture. That's how you knew who I was."

Veelma shrugged a smirk on her lips, "What can I say, I do my research." And she left.

James gazed at the photograph and grinned. He had to go find Darci and ask him if he could bring his father here tomorrow. Turns out he looked like his family after all.

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A/N: Thank you for Reading!


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